


The Fault In My Stars (Because Yours Are Flawless)

by PunnyMcGee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I decided I wanted to add more Lance so, I haven't planned much besides basic plot points lol, I just wanted to write a sickfic, I usually don't do pining Keith but hey man first time for everything, I'm both sorry and not sorry at all, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Physical Abuse, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Psychological Torture, Sickfic, The tags are just getting worse and worse, There's mutual pining actually, Torture, and it gets pretty bad, just keith slowly becoming more and more galra, mainly the story from keith and lance's povs, mentions of Galra Keith, nothing like a/b/o or anythng, or i might not put it in at all, probably klangst, probably langst at some point, there arent a lot of klance moments, there might be shallura if you squiiiiinnnttt reaaaalllyyyy harrrrrddddd, this got kind of out of hand whoops, what else is new with me haha, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8802223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunnyMcGee/pseuds/PunnyMcGee
Summary: Keith wakes up ready to face the day, only to find it dissolving into the worst day he has ever had. When he comes down with a serious case of the flu and the Galra attack, well, let's just say his illness isn't the only thing that's torturing him.Alternatively: Keith and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day[[ Discontinued ]]





	1. Out of Commission

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I didn't plan this fic at all, I literally just wanted to write a cute sick fic with cuddles and mothering and I ruined it, haha. Enjoy.
> 
> [[ Rating/Tags subject to change as fic progresses. ]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'd all best be prepared for this fic. I turned something that was supposed to be cute as shit and made it angsty/gory as fuck. My b.

24:00

Funny, how you could wake up to what you feel is going to be a better day than most, only to actually step into what was probably the worst day of your life. Like the universe wanted to lull you into a false sense of security, soft and calm, unprepared for the heavy tidal wave that would be crashing down on you just later.

And for Keith, that tidal wave came in the form of sickness.

He was in the common room, sitting relaxed on one of the curved cushions where he could settle in and feel safe. There was a slab of metal in his lap, a small lens projecting a holographic screen covered in a digital Altean book translated to some rough english. He'd already thanked Pidge for it, the youngest paladin taking it upon herself to create a translating program for the Altean library when he'd accidentally let slip that he'd missed his packed bookshelf at home. Still, he was grateful. 

Hunk was with him, preferring to work on his small tech experiments in the wide area of the common room instead of in his cramped room. When he'd asked about a week ago, Hunk said something about how it was closer to the kitchen, too. Keith had snorted at that when he'd asked, thinking how typical of the big guy that kind of thought process was. He glanced up from his book again, watching the other work for a moment. His tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth as he worked, brow furrowed deeply as he concentrated on fiddling with a small, triangular device. Keith was fascinated by how someone with such large fingers could work with such small wiring and fragile metal with such precision. He would never say it out loud, but as much as he liked Pidge and admired her work with tech, he thought Hunk was just as, if not more brilliant, than she was when it came to engineering things.

He turned back to the tangible display of light in front of him after a moment. His eyes scanned the text almost lazily, eyes half-lidded and facial muscles forcibly relaxed so as to relieve some of the ache behind his eyes. He could feel heat prickle periodically over the back of his neck and shoulders, and he'd already shed his jacket over an hour ago when it had first started, though by now it had hardly died down even a little. He could feel the vague echo of his heartbeat in his skin, washing over him with each pitter-patter of his cardiovascular system. He swallowed subconsciously, and stifled a wince when his larynx burned with the fluctuation of muscle.

He figured he was dehydrated, having lost count of how long exactly he'd been sitting there reading, and decided grabbing a water pack from the kitchen would be a good idea. He bookmarked his page and turned off the lens, sliding it off his lap before standing. He was a little surprised when the world swayed, but kept his feet and blinked a few times before the room straightened itself. He was a little thankful that Hunk was too absorbed into his work to notice the falter of Keith's movements, so with a bit off effort, he righted himself and breathed out a silent sigh.

"Hey, Hunk," he said, loud enough to get the other's attention on him, watching the dark-skinned male's brows unfurrow and glide up his forehead in acknowledgement. "I'm going to get some water. Do you want me to bring you back any food, or nah?"

"No, I'm alright," The other said, before dropping one brow to give him a questioning look. "But are you, though?"

Keith gave him his own questioning look, surprise flitting through his eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"You're like, really pale, dude. Like, more than usual. And you're shaking."

"I am?" He paused for a moment, only to realize that yes, he  _was,_ in fact, shaking. His legs were struggling to hold his weight, and he realized suddenly that in the span of about thirteen seconds, he'd gone from sweating and hot, to freezing and covered in goosebumps. He looked down at himself, watching his limbs tremble beneath him, and to his horror, his legs gave out and he sunk back against the couch with a heavy thud. His breath seemed to knock out of him, and in seconds, Hunk had abandoned his project and was hovering in front of him, worry creasing his brow. Keith absently swiped a hand through his bangs before massaging his temple, wincing as the ache behind his eyes started to become a sharp, throbbing pain. "Jesus..."

"I don't think Jesus has anything to do with it," Hunk said with a small laugh, "But maybe you've been pushing yourself too hard lately. That last mission  _was_  really intense." He put his hand on Keith's shoulder, and gave it a few reassuring pats that had Keith looking up into warm, dark chocolate eyes. "You sit tight; I'll bring you some water. And I think you should eat, too." Keith mumbled some assent and the other trotted off towards the kitchen. He sighed and let his head fall back against the flat of the couch, closing his eyes against the harsh lights above. He could still feel his legs trembling and he tried to focus on breathing, but only managed to pick up on the now heavy thudding of his heart under his sternum, echoing in his clavicle. He swallowed again, and forgot how bad of an idea that was. He lurched forward, coughing as his throat yowled at him for the action, the hard series of forcefully exhaled breaths loosening whatever mucus had stuck itself to the back of his throat, and he gagged.

He thought he heard someone call his name, but he couldn't tell over the sound of his own coughing. He covered his face with the crook of his arm, hunched over with a hand gripping the front of his shirt as his trachea  _burned_. There was a vague recognition of someone rubbing his back, trying to speak soothing words to him but all he could decipher was "easy" and "breath, idiot" amongst them. It took a few minutes, but the coughing tapered off, and Keith was left wheezing as he was moved to rest back against the couch once more. He blinked over at the one helping him, surprised to find Lance of all people looking at him with - was that concern wrinkling his brow?

"Hello, Keith, anyone there?" The other said, and his voice was suddenly loud and close and all Keith wanted to hear. If his face wasn't flushed from the exertion of coughing, he might have felt embarrassed from how close their proximity was.

"Yeah, what?" He croaked back, and tried not to wince at the sound of his own voice.

Lance couldn't stifle such an action, however, "Christ, you sound like shit."

Keith closed his eyes again, "Thank you, Sherlock, for that brilliant observation."

The other huffed, "You know, usually I'd totally jump into one of our usual arguments, but you really don't look so good." His eyes wandered to the doorway leading out and into the ship, "Maybe I should get Shiro or Coran."

"Don't bother them. I'm fine," the dark-haired male grunted.

Lance's face was was very close to his own, peering at him with incredulity, and he reaches a hand up and under Keith's bangs where they're stuck to his skin. "Dude, you're anything but fine. You've got a fever and you're shaking."

"But m'fine," Keith said again, and only barely saves his pride by keeping his voice from dropping to a whine. Unfortunately, Hunk decides that's a good moment to come back into the room, his eyebrows raising when he spots Lance, who turns around at the sound of someone entering the room.

"Oh, hey Lance! What's up?" He said, peering around the lanky boy to peer at Keith, and the sight makes his face drop, "Dude, you look worse than before I left, and I was only gone, like, five minutes."

"Mr. Macho Man here insists he's fine," Lance chimed in before Keith can say anything, "but he's got one heck of a fever, he's covered in sweat, he's shaking, and I just watched him cough for like, a solid minute."

"Guys, I'll be alright, just-"

"Yeah, you  _will_ be alright, because you're going to bed _right_ _now_ ," Lance huffed, turning back to him with a glare meant to smother any sort of retort from the other.

He gets shot a glare of Keith's own, but the pale-skinned boy sighs and mutters something that sounds like, "Whatever, fine."

Hunk and Lance both help him back to the room, and the larger of the two gets him situated with some basic supplies - water, food goo, a portable comm link should he need to call anyone. Lance went and got extra pillows and blankets, creating what Keith would silently admit was the most comfortable nest he'd ever been in. He was embarrassed by the amount of fussing they were doing over them, snapping more easily when Hunk offered to feed him or Lance tried to tuck the blanket around him for the third time. Lance only grumbled at him, saying how he was much meaner when he was sick, while Hunk only rolled his eyes and let Keith's attitude roll off his shoulders with a chuckle.

He and Lance left, telling him they'd send in Shiro or Coran to check on him, and Keith huffed out that they shouldn't bother them before the door shut. And then he was left alone, and impossibly comfortable in the ocean of blankets he lay shivering under. It didn't take long for his eyelids to start getting heavy, and with a few more coughs and stuttering breaths, he let himself succumb to sleep.

 

♤

 

20:23

An indefinite amount of time passed before Keith resurfaced from sleep, and vaguely registered that there was someone else in the room. Then he realized there was a hand in his hair, brushing his bangs back in a soothingly familiar manner, murmuring unintelligibly to him. He groaned, and shifted to press farther into the hand, making its owner chuckle. The sound was one he knew well, soft but thrumming, and he managed to crack open his eyes to see Shiro beside him. He was a litte blurry, but the warm affection and concern was still evident in his face, his smile also causing the edges of his scar to turn upwards at the edges. He was sitting on a small stool next to Keith's pillowed head.

Keith blinked at him for a moment, squinting to try and refocus his gaze, "Shiro..?"

"Hey," the other replied, and he was thankful his older brother didn't say anything about how scratchy his voice was. "It's me. How're you feeling?"

Keith did a quick inventory, but found he didn't even feel marginally better. In fact, if anything, he felt even worse. The room was swaying around him even though he was laying down, he was still shivering under three blankets and a comforter, and he was drenched in a cold sweat, making everything feel slimy when he moved. But Shiro's hand was a welcome comfort, the callouses of his human fingers sliding through his roots soothing enough for him to close his eyes again. 

"Bad," is what he said.

"Very descriptive," the other chuckled. "You've got a serious fever, though. And I assume that's not all?"

Keith nodded, afraid that if he'd made a noise, he'd start up another coughing fit. "Cold. Room's spinning. Throat hurts."

Shiro nodded, and brushed through Keith's bangs again, "Sounds like all the symptoms of your garden-variety flu."

"Don't know why I have to lay here when they've got magic healing pods," The dark-haired male grumbled under his breath.

"Coran said the pods can only fix physical injuries. Sickness, unfortunately, has to be dealt with the old fashioned way."

"Ten-thousand year old advanced alien technology, and I have to lay here sweating and shivering for a week?" He let out a breath of exasperation, "Lame."

Shiro made a sound like a soft laugh, "Yeah. You've been out for a while now, though, so you can probably take some more medicine." 

Keith opened his eyes and looked at the elder, even if his vision was just as unfocused and swimmy as before, "Wait,  _how_ long have I been out?"

Shiro hummed in thought, and pulled out the small digital clock from his back pocket that they all carried with them. Even though it was in Altean time, Pidge had fixed them each with an Earth-time translation directly underneath it. "From what the others told me, probably around four or five solid hours."

He smiled at Keith when he groaned, "Can I just sleep forever? Fuck being sick."

"Language," Shiro chided, but without any real bite. He then reached over to the wall next to the indent of Keith's bed, pressing a button on a glowing panel, making it unlatch and flip open to reveal a small, pull-out shelf. There were a few items on it - some trinkets Keith had collected and placed there after he'd found the hidden compartment - but Shiro reached for the tiny bottle full of small pills that he'd placed there when he came in. "And while I agree you need more sleep, Coran said you should take two of these every four to six hours. So, about now."

Keith groaned again, but tried to push himself up, only to find his arms uncharacteristically weak and wobbly. Shiro helped him up, and handed him two tiny blue pills that seemed to glow slightly in the dim of his room, along with an already-opened water sack. He downed them both at once, took a few extra sips of water, and slumped back into his cocoon. He could already feel his eyelids growing heavy from even that miniscule amount of effort, and with a soft promise to check on him later, Shiro left him to fall back to the quiet relief of sleep.

 

♤

 

18:17

His dreams were restless, and there was shouting and red lights flashing all around him. Everything was coated in a heavy smog, making everything murky and intangible. He couldn't focus on anything, couldn't make sense of what was going on around him, until he realized that it was because his eyes were still closed. He cracked them open to find the alarms blaring, but the sound reached his ears as if he were underwater. He vaguely recognized Allura's voice, shouting over the loudspeakers of the ship for the paladins to get to their lions. 

His instincts kicked in as he finally realized the situation, and he managed to scrounge up enough adrenaline to throw off his covers and slide himself out of bed. He was in clean clothes this time, and the shirt he had on had to have been one of Lance's spares, judging by how the guy was the only one on the team who was even close to his size and all of Keith's had been soiled by sweat over the course of his illness. There was the vague scent of Lance around him, hovering in the air of his room, as if the other boy had been in here recently, and for a while as well. But he hardly had time to deal with any of that and tried his best it ignore the swelling of his chest from wearing the lanky male's clothes as he grabbed his jacket from it's hook on the wall and hobbled as quickly as he could out the door.

Panting and already sweating once more by the time he got in his armor and entered his lion's hanger, he slipped his helmet on to a barrage of shouting that resparked the migraine that had begun dwindling behind his eyes.

"Hunk, watch your flank!"

"Holy, moley, that was close! Where did these guys come from?"

"We're taking heavy fire on the left flank. Shiro! Can you get rid of that fleet ship?"

"There's too many, we need to form Voltron if we want to escape through the wormhole!"

"We can't! We don't have Keith!"

Keith, throughout all of this, had struggled into his lion and collapsed into the pilot's chair with a heavy sound. He could feel Red's presence in his mind, washing him with waves of worry and comfort alike. He grabbed the joysticks, and shot outside of the castle, directly into the fray.

"Yes, you do," he grunted, and immediately activated his lion's jawblade and put her into a nose dive, slicing through a throng of fighter ships that had been chasing after Pidge and leaving a mass of small explosions in his wake..

"Keith!" Lance shouted, "What are you doing? You're supposed to be back in the castle!"

"Dude, you're in no state to fight right now," Hunk chimed in, and the concern was evident in his tone.

Shiro piped in next, "Keith, go back to the castle. We can handle this."

"What, you think a little fever is gunna keep me out of commission?" The red paladin panted. "I can take care of myself. We need to form Voltron, you know that, and you can't do it without me."

"Keith, I really don't-" Shiro started to protest before Pidge interrupted with a shout.

"There's more fleet ships coming this way! Scanners detect five!"

Shiro was silent for only a moment, before Keith saw him sigh in defeat on the video screen, "Alright team, let's form Voltron and quickly take out these guys so we can get out of here." There was a chorus of agreement, and within moments, they'd bonded themselves together with their lions, and formed the most powerful weapon in the universe. Keith could feel the presence of the other five, and vaguely recognized their shared worry for him. He took a breath, and let it out slowly, letting their waves of comfort and concern flood over him.

They managed to take out half the fleet, and twice as many fighter ships in about half an hour. Keith was definitely feeling the strain on him, both from piloting and keeping his bond with the other four. He was sweating as if someone had turned on a faucet, shivering and swallowing the urge to cough with every breath. The throbbing pain behind his eyes was intense, and his vision was starting to swim every time they swung their sword and decimated a wave of fighter ships.

Just when they thought the way was clear enough for a getaway, their scanners picked up a strange frequency coming from a small group of fleet ships that had been hanging back and avoiding the fray. There was a sudden jump in energy to near dangerous level, and a feeling of foreboding and danger slammed into all of them as they watched a small ball of concentrated energy form in front of the ships, growing in intensity as it crackled yellows and greens. They tried to get out of the way, Shiro shouting orders at Lance and Hunk for the boosters, Allura and Coran yelling warnings, but no one was fast enough. The ball of energy was discharged, shooting forwards towards them and as it flew, it continued to gorw, till it was nearly the size of Voltron itself. 

"Brace yourselves!" Was all Shiro could get out before it hit them, too big and fast to avoid. 

Electricity was everywhere, shooting through Voltron and into its systems. Keith watched in horror as his screens faltered and fizzled out, could feel his bond with the others torn asunder and shredded as they were forced apart to their individual lions. Then all he could see were a million white stars exploding in his pupils as the energy hit him. His muscles seized up and and his mouth wrenched open, though no sound came out except a garbled cry. Everything was on fire, his brain felt like it had turned to molten lava, and then the energy was gone. Remnants of it still clung to him, but with most of it dissipated as soon as it came, Keith was left with nothing to hold him up.

His muscles unclenched and he vaguely felt himself falling through space. His metal made a sickening clatter against the metal pains of the floor, but he didn't even register the sound over his own gasping as spasms wracked his body. His mouth opened and closed uselessly, before he remembered how to breathe. But when he took that first lungful of air and it hit the sandpapery inside of his throat, he knew it was a mistake. He gagged, and tried to throw himself forward onto his stomach just as his abdominals convulsed around his stomach, and he promptly threw up an impressive amount of bile and drool. No matter how hard Keith tried, he couldn't get his stomach to relax enough for him to even take a breath.

"-ith? Ke-!" Shiro was calling his name through the massive amount of static on the comms, urgent and demanding his attention, even though he sounded like he was underwater. "Kei- ... -ou nee- ... -et out of- ... -ere now! The Galra- ... -osing in and we ne- ... -cape thro- ... -a wormhole!" The pale-skinned boy could do nothing, except wait for his stomach to stop convulsing. It felt like someone had made him drink gasoline and then lit it on fire - everything burned. 

"Can't..." He finally replied, but his words were broken and there was a heavy haze of exhaustion pulling over his mind. "...Fell. Too sick... I'm... sorry..."

Through the muffled sounds,and darkness of the cockpit, he saw an intense, violet light flood in through the glass panels of his lion's eyes. He felt a familiar pull of a tractor beam, there was more shouting in his ears, cries of warning, of his name, desperate and strangled. But he couldn't put a name to any of them; none of them were recognizable anymore. The violet light faded to black, and Keith couldn't hold onto consciousness any longer, falling into a heavy darkness that suffocated him into sleep.

 

♤

 

18:35

“Keith!” Lance shouted into the comms again, but the only reply was that of Keith’s retching. The others followed Lance’s example, and started calling for the red paladin to no avail. The red lion was lifeless, eyes blacked out like empty sockets as it hung limply in open space. The Galra had ordered for more backup and were closing in, the paladins only just barely managing to get their lions functioning again to hightail it to the castle. But Lance was the first to notice the Red lion was not following.

“Keith? Keith!” Shiro this time, and Lance could see the panic flash through his eyes over the vid com before his brow furrowed further, raising mountains on the skin between his eyes. “Keith, you need to get out of there now! The Galra are closing in and we need to escape through a wormhole!”

The sound of the retching had stopped, but the voice that struggled through the pained gasps only made the dread in Lance’s gut coil tighter, “Can’t… fell. Too sick… I’m… sorry…”

“Keith, I know you’re really sick right now, buddy,” Shiro said, and Lance could almost hear the waver in his voice as they all saw the fresh fleet starting to close in around them. “But you need to get up and pilot Red.”

There was no answer, and Lance gritted his teeth in frustration before he spit out. “I’m going to get him. Come on, Blue, let’s go save mullet-head so we can rub it in his face when he’s better!” He ignored Shiro’s call for him to stop, taking hold of the joysticks and thrusting them forwards. Blue springs to life with a roar, but before she can make any ground, a group of fighter drones erupts from the nearest battleship and start shooting at him head on. He takes a few hits before he manages to barrel roll out of the line of fire, cursing under his breath as he rights himself.

A tractor beam has locked on to the red lion and started dragging it towards the Galra ship that had shot the energy ball at them, and Lance calls out Keith’s name one more time. More fighter drones are swarming outside of the new ships, and Shiro makes the call to head back to the castle.

“But Keith-!” Lance tried to protest.

“We’ll get him back, Lance. But right now, we have to protect the rest of the lions and regroup so we can figure out how to do that!”

“I like that plan!” Hunk chimes in, and his video feed jumps up to Lance’s left, threatening to fizz out again. “Escape now, figure out how to rescue Keith later.”

Pidge jumps in next, a static-y image of her projected in the upper left corner, “We’ve done it before with Allura, I’m sure we can infiltrate some Galra prison bases or hijack a trafficking ship to find out where they’re keeping him.”

The brunet scowls at his dashboard, knowing they’re all right, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He takes one last look at the Red lion still hanging dead in the air, mercilessly sucked into the Galra ship, and Lance feels a dark clenching in his chest as he forces himself to turn Blue around and return to the Castle ship with a swarm of fighter drones behind him. They manage to slip through a wormhole with only a few being able to follow, which fell lifeless as soon as they were forcibly disconnected from their main ships’ power systems.

Lance was still sitting in his lion, the cockpit dimmed as Blue started shutting down to rest. He sat there in silence, mind blank for a few peaceful moments before the memory of Keith’s pained voice cutting through his gasps over the comms sliced through his daze. He ripped off his helmet with a snarl, as if that would make the memory of the sound disappear, and stood sharply as he threw the device at the floor. It clattered loudly, and the sound only served as a reminder to the way he’d heard Keith fall from his pilot’s chair after the energy blast. He slammed his hands onto the dashboard, curling his fingers into fists with the second hit before he slumped over himself.

“Stupid… show-off… with his dumb mullet,” Lance gritted out, heat prickling at the corners of his eyes as he heard the other lions release their pilots into the hangar. But Lance made no move to leave. He stood there, trying to ignore the shake to his hands and the little drops of regret collecting on the shimmery surface of his dashboard. Pretended he couldn’t feel the wetness on his face and bit the inside of his cheek to keep a single sound from escaping him, even though he was alone.

He was alone.

 

♤

 

18:52 

Keith felt himself being dragged out of unconsciousness. 

As in, he was  _literally_ being dragged, and the roughness of the action was what had awoken him. He hadn't even opened his eyes yet, and the stuttering of the motion, of his armor and bodysuit catching on the indents in the floor or the occasional kick of a heel to his back made him want to curl in on himself. His arms were tied together already, the bonds thick and strong, He wanted to pretend this was a dream, that he wasn't currently being taken to god knows where in this unfamiliar, hostile place, that he'd wake up to Shiro or Lance by his bedside, telling him it was time for another round of medicine tablets. But no matter how hard he tried, the dream didn't dissipate.

He was forced into reality by being flung forward and thrown to the ground, grunting as he rolled to a stop in front of several pairs of booted feet. He stared hard at the ground, until someone behind him grabs him by the hair and jerks his head up harshly, pain splintering over his skull and down his neck at the sharp movement. He's proud when he stays silent through it, not even a grunt or whimper getting through his tight lips. He blinks, and focuses on the hulking figure of a Galra that can only be the ship's captain, which means he's no doubt a general. Keith is panting, chest heaving with effort and he can feel the line of drying spit down his chin from when he'd thrown up. His stomach is aching in his gut, and he's not sure if he can do anything about the situation he's in now, even if he wasn't sick as a dog.

"What a pathetic creature," one of the Galra beside the supposed-general said, and Keith's eyes flicked over to him, tracing the slices of whililace that curled over his dark, purple ears and down his furry throat. " _This_ is the Red Paladin that took on Lord Zarkon? Are you certain, General Glokila?"

"Indeed," the general said, and Keith's gaze started swimming from the painful position his head was being held in, the grip on his hair far too tight. That didn't stop him from sending as nasty a glare as he could manage at the bulky Galran. "It seems he's also unwell, by human standards. Fighting in his condition and forming Voltron probably put an immense strain on him. But-" He let a sneer pull over his lips, baring impossibly sharp teeth that shone pink in the violet lighting of the ship. "He'll be of use to us yet."

"If you think... the others... will come for me," Keith panted, voice worn to hell and lungs burning as he exhaled each word. "Then you're mistaken. They... know where I stand... on rescues. They won't come... for me."

"Who said anything about rescuing you? No, rat. We're going to put you through," he paused for a breath, leaning down close enough for his glowing Galran eyes to bore light-spots in Keith's retinas from exposure. "Let's say, a bit of an evaluation." Then he leaned back up and motioned to a sentry behind Keith. There was a shift in movement too fast for Keith's sluggish brain to comprehend, and then a very hard hit to the back of his head had him slamming downwards. He was out before his chin even collided with the floor.

 

♤

17:12 

He was in a cell.

That was the first thing he realized when he came to and forcefully blinked open his eyes. He was crumbled against hard planes of metal, glowing softly with metallic, lilac hues. It was cold, a steady draft floating down from a singular vent in the ceiling directly on to him. He was still shivering, but at least now he could blame it on an outside source, not that it gave him much comfort. There was a heavy ache to the entirety of his body, throbbing in his skin and muscles like the violent stabbing in his temples. There was a particularly painful bump on the back of his head that he didn't even need to reach up to know was there, he could just feel it. His stomach roiled, and he already knew that if he opened his mouth, he'd retch all over the floor again. He'd been stripped of his armor, leaving him in just the black bodysuit that went with it. He could feel the sweat drenching his back and neck, making his hair cling like soggy tentacles to his skin. He inhaled slowly through his nose, exhaling the same way.

Well this sucked.

 

♤

 

16:39

The paladins were occupying various points in the lounge room. Pidge tapping away at her computer, which she’d hooked up to some kind of altean signal extender so she could attempt to locate and remotely hack into any of the Galra tech bases they may have settled near. Hunk had immediately disappeared into the kitchen for some comfort food, offering to help Pidge with their work and occasionally feeding her so she didn’t forget to, since she had a tendency to do that when she got too involved in her tech. Allura and Coran had slipped into the control room to see if the castle’s scanners could locate the location of the Red Lion and do damage control. Shiro was standing by one of the automatic doors, leaning against the wall with tightly crossed arms and such an intense scowl on his face that Lance idly wondered if that’s where Keith had gotten the inspiration for his own.

And Lance, well, when he’d finally come out of his lion nearly an hour after they’d landed, none of the others had the heart to scold him for his brash actions towards the end of the battle. Shiro had started to, but then he’d taken one look at the fiery red ringing the brunet’s eyes, the light missing from dark blue irises that rested under drooping eyelids, and the overall tortured look that seemed out-of-place on the usual bright and happy paladin’s face, and decided he’d leave him alone. Lance was grateful, he was, but the feeling was all but swallowed by the guilt that roiled in his stomach as his mind replayed the end of the last battle in his head against his will, over and over again.

He hated that he couldn’t do anything in the moment. How he’d been forced to turn tail and run while one of their own had been taken in and captured, when he shouldn’t have even had to be in the fray in the first place. Keith was sick, he shouldn’t have been piloting, much less forming Voltron. And now he was sick _and_ captured by the _Galra._ Lance honestly couldn’t think of a worse position to be in.

They’d done a few prison break-ins before, on small missions to follow leads on Pidge’s family. He’d heard more than enough tales from the rescued prisoners about the kind of torture they went through when the druids wanted information or the Galra decided they needed something to play with. But right now, he wanted to think about anything that wasn’t Keith or the Galra.

So he sat next to Hunk, half-buried in his best friend’s side as the dark-skinned boy worked on a faulty piece of equipment Pidge had asked him to fix. He buried his face in the bigger male’s soft shoulder, knees drawn in as he tried to hide the worry etched into his brows.


	2. Tears And Blood Taste The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is desperate to save Keith, who's barely hanging on by a thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted another chapter, so here it is. Sorry it's not as good as the last one or any of my other works, really. I usually only write for this fic when I'm in a bad place and need somewhere to put all the negative feelings. Sorry in advance to Keith and Lance, and all the readers.
> 
> Warning for graphic depictions of physical violence/abuse, injuries, and yelling.

14:04

He swam in and out of darkness for the next couple hours, struggling towards the surface catch a breath in the form of cold, metal walls and lilac lights before he was shoved under again, too heavy to do much other than sink. He was disoriented and dizzy, even unconscious, and his dreams were nothing but unintelligible voices and muted shadows. He was burning hot, even after he'd been stripped of his armor, and there was sweat drenching his chest and back, soaking his hair and drizzling down his face. 

He vaguely found himself floundering for the surface again, almost there when something sharp and quick reaching in and pulled him fully out of the water in the form of a large hand wrapped around his throat and slamming him into the closest wall. Pain splintered over his head and down his spine, and he gagged out a yelp. One hand shakily reaching up to lay over the one at his throat, and he forced an eye open and watched his vision tilt this way and that as he tried to focus on the brutish Galra in front of him. He choked for air and darkness was scratching the edges of his vision again, like the dirty film of an old movie, muting what little colors there was in the room. He saw something move into the room, a blob of dark purples and lines of gold, and come to stand just behind the Galra snarling at his limp form hanging against the wall.

"Well, Red Paladin, it is good to see you." The voice made goosebumps erupt over Keith's burning skin, and he shifted his vision just to his right to look at the newcomer. He blinked a bit, unable to follow the hand motion she did to the galra in front of him, but he didn't have to worry about that. He was dropped like a burning coal and thudded to the ground with a harsh snap, an unflattering yelp echoing in the small room as pain rocketed through his hips and down his legs when he landed. The smaller figure stepped forward as the larger Galra moved back, still snarling.

Keith lay slouched against the wall and breathing through the intense pain, glaring up at the figure before he managed to grit out, "Fuck you."

"Not a very polite greeting to your new hostess," the hooded figure said. "And it is so rare that we get someone as special as a paladin of Voltron in our company. I was hoping that someone from such a legendary group would be more polite than that."

"If this is what you call a proper reception, then I demand a refund," Keith snarled to the best of his ability, but his windpipe is still recovering from the vice-grip that had been constricting its airflow, so the words come out breathy and weak at best.

"How about I offer you something better?" The other replied calmly, leaning down to his level. That's when he saw the particular red markings and white hair that hid just below the cover of the fabric, and he knew this was no ordinary antagonizer. This was the witch, Haggar. Zarkon's right hand advisor and head druid. "You tell me what I want to know, and I will let you go. If you resist, I will find the information I desire by force, and I assure you that is a much less pleasant process."

"Guess I'll just have to find out myself because you're not getting shit from me, _hag."_  Keith doesn't flinch when she stands up again, a hand flashing out from beneath her robe. Keith feels something cold and slimy wrap around him, chilling him to the bone as he was forcibly risen into the air once more, though this time by dark druid magic and not a beefy purple hand. He's brought forward a bit and then there's a rush of air around him as he's slammed backwards into the wall. His mouth wrenches open in a scream, but no sound comes out, the air in his lungs all but being ripped from him. He can't move, his body being peeled from the metal before being slammed against it once more. Pain rushes over him in suffocating waves, and he can't seem to take in air, his lungs screaming, diaphragm refusing to cooperate. He can feel blood trailing down the back of his head and bleeding into the sweat-soaked locks of hair that lead it to trace the veins in his throat.

He's dropped back to the floor in a crumpled heap, making no sound as his body connects with metal panes once again, Haggar's unphazed voice sounding like it was a hundred feet up in the air when she spoke, "Let's see how well his will holds up in this condition."

Then he's left alone. Everything is foggy and dark, like they'd turned the lights down to a very dim setting. He's no longer burning, but now feels impossibly cold, without the energy to so much as shiver to spark any body heat. He gives a weak cough, can taste blood filling his mouth and where it had trickled over his lips and stained his chin. He blinks a few times, sluggish and dazed, and is surprised when he feels numbing throb of pain in the back of his head before darkness blankets over him once more, heavy and freezing.

 

♤

14:01

"What do you  _mean_  'search inconclusive'?" 

Lance is standing in the control room with the others, breathing hard and eyes sharp where they rake over Pidge's bitter expression that stares back at him. His teeth are bared, shoulders bunched up angrily as his red-ringed eyes throw daggers at anyone who spoke.

"I mean, whatever ship he's on is too far out of reach for any of our long-range scanners to find him," Pidge spat back, her tone piss salty.

Hunk stepped forward to try to intervene, "Guys, chill, we'll just-"

"We'll just  _what,_  Hunk?" Lance snapped, whirling on his best friend before his brain could stop him. His emotions had build up to a swelling rage, and when Pidge had antagonized him after giving him the news that Keith was too far out of range to be tracked, he'd snapped. Everything he'd been pushing down for the past few hours erupted, his blank facade crumbling to dust. "Just sit on our fucking asses while Keith is in a Galra prison going through god knows what kind of torture? Yeah, real helpful!"

"Lance, calm down." Shiro this time, his voice a sobering hardness that had Lance's mouth snapping shut, but his eyes still sharp and angry as he turned to look at their leader. The other looked a little ragged, doing whatever he can to help get the ship back in proper condition as fast as possible so they could go after Keith. But right now, his gaze was hard and unwavering, staring Lance down. "Yelling at everyone won't help Keith. We'll get him back as quickly as possible. He's stronger than you think. He'll be okay."

"Right-o!" Coran said, jumping in with a smile and a quick explanation. "In fact, we've got a plan to locate him. We'll have to go back to Olkari first to have them develop a very long-range scanner that Pidge and Hunk will hook up to the castle. It should be able to pick up the Red Lion's location, even out of commission, which will lead us right to number four!" He straightened his vest proudly.

The content look on his face was quickly wiped off when Lance turned on him, "We don't have that kind of time! We need to rescue Keith  _now!"_

"Dude, it's the only plan we've got right now," Hunk interjected, though he was much softer this time. "We have to find Keith before we can save him."

"We'll only be on Olkari for an hour at most. Attaching the new beacon to the ship shouldn't take more than twenty minutes," Allura said, her princess-voice in full effect. Lance tightened his lips to a fine line when she glared at him, challenging him to go against her word. "Then we can find out where Keith is being held captive and figure out how to get him out."

Lance said nothing more, turning on his heel and quickly departing the room. No one followed him, though he heard Hunk call out his name before the doors closed behind him.

 

♤

 

11:56

"Rise, rat," a voice above him commanded, but Keith found he couldn't move. When he gave no response, he felt that cold and slimy feeling entrap him once more and his body being lifted from the floor. He tried to open his eyes, but found nothing but darkness, so he closed them again. He was laid with surprising care onto the metal slab that was supposed to serve as a bed in his room, and heard something akin to rustling next to him, but more alien.

"Where is Voltron?" A voice he now recognized as Haggar whispered into his ear, and Keith hated himself for letting a shiver roll down his spine, so he turned his head away. A hand grasped his face and wrenched it back to its owner, a hot breath searing over the chilled skin of his cheeks, "I said: Where. Is. Voltron!"

Keith did the only thing he could in that situation, and spit on the vile witch's face.

He was reward by an indescribably wave of pain rushing into his head and suffocating his brain. He didn't have the energy to struggle, merely opening his mouth and letting out an anguished scream as white and lilac flared up in the black of his vision. Not soon enough, the feeling was wrenched from his skull and he was left a panting mess on the bed.

"Oh, that's interesting," she said in a way that vaguely resembled an interested tone. He couldn't demand for her to elaborate while he struggled to gulp air to his starved lungs, but she saved him the trouble. "I had no idea one of our own was a paladin. But this form is too weak. It's a stain on the Galra name." Then her voice was in his ear once more, and this time he could barely registered the words that hand delivered a searing fear to his ear canal. "Not to worry, I'll fix that right now."

 

♤

 

10:14

"Lance, you're gunna wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that," Shiro comments from where he's eating dinner at his place at the table. Lance was stalking the parameter of the room, scowl deep and stride angry.

"What am I supposed to do, Shiro?" Lance questions as he whirls to face the other, trying desperately to keep his tone at least somewhat more controlled than how he'd been in the control room earlier. "We've been on Olkari for twice as long as Allura said, and Pidge and Hunk  _still_ aren't done attaching the stupid beacon to the ship!"

The older man sighed, dipping his spoon into the hot pink goo that was his meal, "The beacon was a lot more complicated to make than we thought, since it covered a huge range and is supposed to be able to pick up a signal from a sleeping lion. And it's a lot bigger, which makes it harder to attach to the ship."

Lance didn't say anything, merely returning to his pacing. 

 

♤

 

9:02

Keith wakes up to her voice again, though this time it's not directed at him. His hearing has improved greatly in the past hour, but he's going to blame that on the Galra ears that had taken the place of his human ones. They sat like cat ears on his head, though wider at the base and the tips more rounded.

He still couldn't see - probably from the trauma done to the back of his head hours ago that never got tended to. Then again, neither did any wound he received. He could, however, feel the fur that had spread over his skin, the way the palms of his hands had warped to form softer pads like paws, nails lengthening to claws.

At least most of the pain was gone, though his breathing was still labored and shallow. He could feel blood decorating his stripped form like chained jewelry, splashed over skin mottled with fur like wet paint that was beginning to dry.

But he heard Haggar mention something along the lines of "transformation incomplete", and then he blacked out again.

 

♤

 

7:52

He was on his thirty-fifth lap around the room when Hunk comes rushing through the door, breathless, startling both him and Shiro, who abruptly stood from his seat.

"Hunk?" Shiro questioned, face concerned and a little hopeful as the other caught his breath.

The bulkier male took another moment to find his air, and Lance waited without any of his own, his lungs stopped working as his eyes dashed frantically over his friend's form. 

"We found him," He said, standing up straight and his eyes dashing between Shiro's and Lance's. "We found where they're keeping Keith."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who've noticed the numbers that have been added before each part - you guessed it, it's a countdown. 
> 
> The summary _does_ read "Keith and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad **Day** ". So it's a countdown of twenty-four hours from the start of the "day" that Keith is going through.
> 
> Who _knows_ what'll happen in the last 8 hours, though. Anything, really.


End file.
